


Soup

by artemisscribe



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: and John and Penny have the best friendship ever, because it's not a real friendship unless you can pass for a married couple, but platonic fluff, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 21:18:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8862499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemisscribe/pseuds/artemisscribe
Summary: “I didn’t even know you could cook” Penelope says suspiciously, looking from the thermos to John and back again.“I am a man of hidden depths" he replies, sagely.





	

She should have expected the rain. London always lulls her into a false sense of security this time of year, so bright and promising early in the morning before turning grey and hostile before the day is out, which is how Lady Penelope finds herself hurrying down the last hundred yards towards her father’s city residence through lashings of unforgiving icy rain in a too thin jacket, desperately failing to keep any of her bags dry.

She’s keeping her head down to try and keep the water out of her eyes, which is how she doesn’t see him until she’s walking up the steps of the town-house and is confronted by the figure of a man, huddled up against her front door, trying and failing to use the doorway as shelter from the weather. It’s funny how a person can become so familiar you can recognise them from their shoes, but Penny knows him the instant she sets eyes on the brown Italian leather, her heart leaping in delight as her gaze travels up smart dark jeans and a well-cut overcoat with the collar turned up in a vain attempt at keeping him dry.

Although she knows it’s him from the very moment she’s aware of his presence, it doesn’t really set in that he’s here, _really here_ , right in front of her, until she sees that bright smile under fond green eyes and sopping wet ginger hair. She should really say something, but she’s stunned because he’s _really here_ , and oh she’s missed him so.

“Surprise!” John grins, spreading his arms wide, a thermos clasped in one gloved hand and it’s the sound of his voice that finally snaps her out of her shock.  
She drops her bags, leaving her newly purchased shoes to fend for themselves as she skips up the final two steps to throw herself into his arms, revelling in the almost forgotten sensation of his unexpected strength as he easily absorbs the tackle and lifts her clean off her feet in a huge bear hug.  
“What are you doing here?” she asks, too delighted by the surprise to lift her head from where she has buried it in the crook of his neck  
“I brought you soup” he says, his voice soft and low and full of fondness.

That isn’t the reply she’s expecting. She frowns up at him as he brandishes his thermos by way of explanation.  
“Why are you bringing me soup when you’re supposed to be in Texas?” she asks, certain that this must be some kind of absurd fever dream,  
“You said you were sick!” John replies, his expression so earnest that Penelope has to laugh,  
“Yes, a week ago!” she says, shaking her head in disbelief, “I’m _better_ now.”

He huffs indignantly as she laughs at him, stood in the rain, carrying his soup.  
“Well that’s just rude of you!” he pouts, “Do you know how long it took me to get time off to come and nurse you back to health?”  
“Was it a week?” Penelope asks sarcastically, John’s pout deepens,  
“I didn’t go to all this effort just to be mocked!” he sulks  
“I’m not mocking you!” Penny cries, laughter threatening to bubble up within her yet again, she tries to project an air of sincerity as she hugs him again  
 “I’m sorry! Please forgive me!” she begs, grinning, “You’re the best friend a girl could have.”

It seems to be enough to placate him as he gives her a knowing smile.  
“I know,” he says smugly, “I’m quite a catch.”  
At that Penelope rolls her eyes  
“Yes you are,” she agrees, taking the thermos out of his hands to peer at it as she rummages through her pockets for her keys, “Now come in out of this awful rain, I just _have_ to try this soup.”  
“You really do” he nods as he gathers up her abandoned shopping from where it’s tumbled across the steps,  
“I didn’t even know you could cook” Penelope says suspiciously, looking from the thermos to John and back again.  
“I am a man of hidden depths” he replies, sagely.

He’s aiming for an air of mystery in that reply but there’s a note of insincerity, a hidden joke that makes Penelope instantly suspicious,  
“You didn’t cook it did you?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at him as she unlocks the door,  
“Alright you caught me,” he concedes, shrugging in bashful defeat, as he follows her into the lobby, “There’s a little place a couple of blocks from here that does the best chicken broth you’ve ever had in your life.”  
“And just when I thought you would make such a wonderful trophy wife” she sighs with exaggerated disappointment.  
“ _Hey!_ ” he cries in mock outrage, “I would be an _amazing_ trophy wife!”  
“Yes,” she says, smiling at him, _oh how she has missed him_ , “I’m sure you would.”


End file.
